Without her
by ACZHS
Summary: Kurt's mother is dead. Kurt feels cold and lonely. "Can we make it without her?"


Hello.

My first fanfiction in English. I hope you like it and everything is good enough to understand. I would be glad to get feedback.

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It was cold. Much too cold.

And dark. Much too dark.

He couldn't sleep. He hadn't really slept since this one night. This one night, which destroyed his life.

She had been ill since weeks. On last Sunday, the doctors said, it would be over. After weeks of hope, suddenly, they said it would be over. She knew. She felt it.

He and his father sat on her bed. All day long. They hold her hands. The three of them spoke with each other in soft voices. She smiled. She laughed. She acted happy. They did, too.

Then her breathing went slower and flatter. And then it was over. His father cried. He couldn't. He just stared at her and felt empty.

He wasn't at school since. He would be going again next week. Not now…

The funeral had taken place today. Hours ago. He wouldn't see his mother ever again.

He shivered. The room was much too cold.

He could remember his mother. How she had been at times like this. Every time, she had seemed to know when he felt cold. She had come down to the basement, had smiled and had seen him freezing. She had brought more blankets, had covered him with them and had kissed him softly at his forehead.

He wished, she would come down the stairs now, but he knew she wouldn't. She wouldn't because she wasn't able to anymore.

Tears dropped from his face on the cushion.

He cried every night since the death of his mother. Not only every night, but every time he was alone, every time he thought about her. And he cried on the funeral.

His father cried a lot, too. His strong father…

He remembered looking up to his father at the funeral. And how he hoped, his father would say anything to him. He didn't know if they had talked since the death of his mother. He really couldn't remember. Maybe some trivial words, but probably not much and nothing important. It was that moment, he had hoped so deeply that his father would say something. Something positive. Something that would tell him that everything would be okay.

But his father hadn't said anything. But he had taken his hand and squeezed it. And in that moment, the boy had known that everything would be alright. His father was there. His father would take care of him.

But why wasn't he here now? Why didn't he know, how cold and dark it was in the basement, how lonely Kurt felt right now?

The tears ran faster.

His body shivered constantly now.

But all was stiff when he suddenly heard movements in the house, on the stairs.

He could see a shape coming down to the basement. He knew exactly who it was. He just knew it was his father. And with relief, his body relaxed again.

"Are you alright, Kurt?" The voice was softer and quieter than usual.

The boy didn't know how his father could possibly know he was awake. He couldn't see it, Kurt was sure. At least, the boy couldn't see the face of his father. How could his father see his face?

But another thought hit the boy. Did his father actually know about Kurt freezing? Like his mother had always known? Did his father actually rightfully guess how cold it was in the basement?

Kurt couldn't know that it wasn't even a little bit cold in the basement. It was just his lonely feeling that made him freeze. But how could he know? How could he know that his father had checked on him every night since his mother's death, exactly the time when Kurt was randomly asleep for a few minutes?

"Dad", the boy whispered back. What would his father do? The boy wished, he would just come over to him and hug him.

"You can't sleep, can you?"

"I can't", the boy confessed, "I have slept maybe an hour per night since…" He swallowed. He couldn't say since what.

His father didn't ask, his father knew.

There was silence. A few minutes. His father didn't know what to do.

Finally the boy sat up and asked quietly: "Dad? Can I… Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

The man nodded and hold out his hand to Kurt. The boy leapt to his feet instantly, took fast paces to his father and was taken by the hand by his father.

They went upstairs together and in the parents' bedroom. The parents' bedroom, which was now only the father's bedroom.

It smelt still like his mother, although she was dead since days and in the hospital an even longer time. How long would the sweet scent stay? When would even this scent be just a memory?

The father took his hand away from Kurt's and laid down on the bed. Kurt could see now. It was brighter up here. _And warmer_, he thought

His father made a gesture; the boy went to him and laid down next to him. Strongly and gently at the same time, the father pulled his son's little body nearer to him. The boy felt the warmth of his father's body, he felt the warmth up to the depth of his heart.

He heard the breath of his father and tried to breathe in the same way, slow and calm like his father.

After a while – the older man maybe asleep by now – the boy asked quietly: "Dad? Can we make it without her?" _Can we live without her?_

A long silence, in which Kurt laid there with closed eyes.

Then the father's voice. "We are not without her. She will be always with us. In our hearts."

The father's hand went trough the son's hair, soft, then again, he started to speak: "We can make it. With her in our hearts. And with each other."

Burt squeezed his son even more and Kurt felt secured and cared.

He would miss his mother, he would sometimes feel alone. But in the end, everything would be okay. They would make it.

"I love you, Daddy." A boyish whisper.

"I love you, too, son. More than anything else."


End file.
